


Making Bucky's Day Better

by sharkie335



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has a sad, Clint wants to make it better, Cock Warming, M/M, Non-Sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: Clint gets home to find that Bucky has had a bad day.  He doesn't want to talk about it.  He just wants a physical connection.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 24
Kudos: 123
Collections: Winterhawk Bingo





	Making Bucky's Day Better

**Author's Note:**

> This makes two stories in two days that I've posted with cock-warming. It honestly doesn't mean anything.

The first time it had happened, Clint had tried to pull Bucky up off his knees. It was one thing for a blowjob, but it was another for Bucky to put himself in such a subservient position. It had seemed like evidence that Bucky still viewed himself as a "thing", not a person.

But Clint had come to understand that that wasn't it at all. Bucky loved the connection, the intimacy of it. He was touch-starved to an extreme that Clint had never seen before in anyone, and absorbed affection with all the nervousness of a dog that had been kicked one too many times. He had trouble being held, or anything that smacked of restraint, so regular cuddling could be overwhelming for him.

But kneeling between Clint's legs, Clint's cock resting in his mouth, seemed to give Bucky the connection and touch he needed so badly, while letting him have a sense of control. So some evenings, Bucky would tug hopefully at Clint's pants. He didn't seem willing to use words to ask what he wanted for, but Clint would strip out of his clothes, sprawl on the couch, and allow Bucky to curl up between his thighs, his mouth holding Clint's cock, gentle and warm.

At first it had been impossible for Clint not to view this as something sexual, his cock getting hard, getting frustrated when Bucky didn't want to take it any further for hours, if at all. But now he was used to it, and he'd mastered the ability to will away any inopportune erections.

Tonight, Bucky had been in Clint's space within moments of him walking through the door, and Clint knew that that meant he'd had a rough day. Maybe it had been therapy, maybe it had been Steve, maybe it was just the stress of being expected to make his own decisions after seventy years of no choice at all. Whatever it was, it was bad.

But Clint hadn't showered since he'd worked out, and he hadn't eaten since before that. So for once, he didn't give in right away. "Shower first," he'd said, trying to keep his voice gentle in order to not spook Bucky. "Maybe you could make me a sandwich while I get clean? Then you can do whatever you want."

Bucky bit his lip, but he also moved off towards the kitchen. Reassured that Bucky wasn't in immediate danger of a meltdown, Clint went to get clean.

For about the millionth time, Clint thanked whoever was out there that Tony had ignored him when he said that he didn't want him interfering with the building that Clint owned. For the most part, Tony had restrained himself, but he'd put in the biggest state-of-the-art boiler system that the building could handle, which meant that Clint had as much hot water as he wanted, just as soon as he turned it on.

He was sore from sparring with both Steve and Natasha, and he could have happily stood under the pounding spray for hours. But he knew that his lover needed him, even if it was hard for Bucky to put it in those words, so he rushed through getting clean, and was out of the shower before the taps had even finished dripping.

He toweled off roughly, and then wandered back out to the living room, not bothering with clothes. They'd just come right back off anyway.

There was one of Bucky's sandwiches on the coffee table, along with a beer, and Clint sighed in happiness. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?" he asked.

A shy smile spread across Bucky's features. "You might have mentioned once or twice," he said, his voice ragged like he'd been trying to hold back strong emotion - probably tears - all afternoon. Clint knew that asking Bucky what was wrong would do no good, though, so instead, he headed towards the couch. 

There was a towel spread across the middle cushion. It lived there these days, washed regularly, because Clnt drew the line at his naked ass on the couch. Settling into what was unquestionably "his" spot, he grabbed the sandwich and beer and sat back.

Bucky was hovering uncertainly, and Clint couldn't bring himself to make Bucky wait any longer. So instead, he said, "If it doesn't bother you that I'm eating, go ahead and come over here."

"Thank you, Clint," Bucky said, so oddly formal when doing this. He slid between Clint and the coffee table and then folded himself down with a grace that looked out of place in a man with as much bulk as Bucky. Clint let him get settled, taking a big bite of his sandwich, barely chewing before washing it down with a sip of beer.

He was expecting it, but it still startled him slightly when Bucky leaned forward, pressing his nose into the crease between his balls and his thigh. "Okay?" Bucky asked, his voice muffled.

"Always, darlin'," Clint said, and then his cock was being taken into Bucky's warm, gentle mouth.

Bucky's mouth was one of the wonders of the world, as far as Clint was concerned. It was amazing when they were having sex, taking Clint all the way down to the root, with amazing suction and tongue action.

But if Clint was being honest, there were times he preferred this. His cock rested in Bucky's mouth, cradled in a spot so warm and wet and soft that he never wanted to move. It was distinctly _not_ sexual - there wasn't any suction or tongue action. It was just a comforting point of connection.

Bucky's hands rested on his thighs, two more points of connection, his fingers flexing slightly as his eyes closed and a look of bliss settled on his face. 

Swallowing, Clint set down the beer and let his fingers run down the side of Bucky's face, tucking his hair back behind his ear. A muscle in Bucky's jaw tensed slightly, but when Clint pulled his hand back, Bucky's eyes opened, and the pleading in them told Clint everything he needed to know.

Today had been a _very_ bad day.

He wanted to ask, but he knew that Bucky wouldn't answer until he was ready - if then. So he finished his sandwich one-handed, keeping the other on Bucky's face, his cock safe and warm in Bucky's mouth.

Gradually, he could see some of the tension draining out of Bucky's shoulders, his posture, and when he finally pulled away, Clint smiled at the dreamy look on his face. "Better, darlin'?" he asked, keeping his voice soft so that Bucky could stay in that space if he wanted.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "I might - maybe again later. If that's okay?"

The uncertainty in Bucky's voice simultaneously made Clint's heart break and made him want to track down some Hydra agents to kill. "Of course. Anything you want."

Bucky's gaze dropped to the floor, and he said, very softly, "Thank you."

"Hey," Clint said, sliding his hand down so that he could tip Bucky's chin up. "Anything for you. If it helps, it's all good. Now, have you eaten today?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Bucky's mouth. "Well, my mouth was full for a while," he said with a partial grin.

"Very cute, funny man. Has it been full of something you chewed and swallowed?"

"I can swallow if you want," Bucky said, his grin growing even more lecherous.

Clint rolled his eyes ostentatiously. "You are just full of 'em tonight. Have you eaten _food_?"

Bucky's gaze darted away as he licked his lips, and that was an answer in itself. Bucky was having a day where decisions were hard. "Okay, go make yourself a sandwich," Clint said. "Bring it back here, and sit with me while you eat it. Then we can do whatever you want."

Nodding, Bucky got up on his feet, that same grace making it look so easy, and then he wandered towards the kitchen. Clint listened to the sounds of him making a sandwich, getting some water, and then he came back with his hands full. 

He didn't sit on the couch - he never did. Instead, he knelt next to the coffee table to eat. At least he no longer inhaled his food like it was going to be stolen from him any minute. Instead, he ate steadily, until there were nothing but a few crumbs on the plate. Only then did he glance up at Clint, and Clint gave him a nod of approval. 

Bucky started to shift back towards Clint, and then hesitated. Clint just spread his legs a little wider and said, "It's okay, Bucky. It's all okay."

As Bucky took his cock back in his mouth, Clint rested his head on the back of the sofa. He could do this all evening if it meant that Bucky felt better.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


End file.
